by Jack Probyn
‘How was it?’ he asked, swinging round to face her.
‘Insightful,’ Danika replied as she pulled her chair out from beneath her desk. ‘Really insightful. He’s confessed to everything. All of the previous heists, shooting the employee, shooting the police officer. He even said that, no matter what we’d tried to do, that device was going to kill Candice regardless. There was no way out for her, and the fact she put the fourth key in on her own just sped things up.’
It was hardly a consolation, but that was the least of Jake’s worries right now.
‘Nice one. Well done,’ he said, trying to hide the anguish in his voice. ‘Dan… can I ask you something?’
‘Yeah, sure.’
‘Did you… did you ever hear anything about the traffic accident on the M25 earlier? Was anyone hurt?’
‘What traffic accident?’
‘Involving a lorry and a busload of kids?’
Danika shook her head. ‘Nope. There’ve been no reports of that. Why?’
Jake dropped his head and looked at the floor. ‘No reason. Nothing to worry about. I just wanted to make sure everyone involved was OK.’
It was nearly midnight by the time Jake finally plucked up the courage to knock on Pemberton’s door. The majority of the office had gone home for the evening, including Danika and Bridger, and the last few who remained were from the HOLMES team, busy entering the backlog of witness statements and information into the system. It was a tedious job, one Jake was grateful he didn’t have to do.
In the four hours since Jake had returned to Mount Browne, Danny Cipriano’s full confession had gone on record, the brothers’ names had been plastered all over the media, earning them international notoriety, and the team had even had a visit from the Chief Constable, who’d acknowledged and congratulated Jake first-hand.
‘Just another day in the office,’ Jake had joked to him.
His heart was still beating fast even now, as though he’d just seen a celebrity across the street and spent the rest of the day posting about it on social media and bragging to friends.
Except, now, there was nothing to brag about. His next words had the potential to collapse a career – two, in fact.
He knocked on Pemberton’s door and waited. A moment later, she gave him the call to enter.
‘Ah, Jake!’ she said, waving him in. ‘Star of the show. Hope you’ve not got any more bright ideas for me – I don’t think I could handle any more.’
Be careful what you wish for, he thought.
Pemberton put her computer to sleep as Jake sat opposite, giving him her undivided attention.
‘I just wanted to say you’ve done a really good job today,’ she began. ‘Praise doesn’t get thrown around here that much, so you should be proud of yourself. Without your help, I dread to think where we might have ended up. I’ve been really impressed, and if you keep that up, then we might just—’
‘Guv,’ Jake interrupted. He kept his head down; he couldn’t bear to look at her right now. Not yet.
‘Yes, Jake? Is something the matter?’
Jake closed his eyes briefly, inhaled, held it, exhaled. As he opened his mouth to speak, he realised the knot in his stomach was gone. Strangely, it gave him the confidence to look her in the eye.
‘I have a few concerns,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘While I was in Winchester with Bridger, Freddy told me that, in all of their previous heists, they’d had inside help from a corrupt officer, working to get them out of tricky situations. He said that this heist would be no different, and that someone within the team was working against us.’
Pemberton’s face was expressionless, offering no hint of a reaction. He didn’t know whether he’d plucked at a nerve, or whether he was confirming her own beliefs.
‘I have reason to believe that Freddy was telling the truth.’
‘You’re suggesting one of my officers is corrupt?’ Her voice remained as placid as her face.
‘Not one, guv. Two. Two officers.’
‘You do realise this is a very serious allegation, Jake,’ she said, more as a statement than any sort of question.
Jake nodded. ‘I fully understand the ramifications of what I’m saying. But I have proof, guv.’
Pemberton let out a long sigh, like she was getting rid of all the day’s stress in one overdue breath.
‘Give me their names,’ she said abruptly.
‘Don’t you want to hear the evidence first?’
‘No. Names. Tell me their names.’
This was it. No going back now. His reputation and potential friendship with both of them would be permanently tarnished, ruined. And there was certainly one that Jake would miss more than the other.
‘Jake?’ Pemberton insisted.
‘Sorry, guv.’ He licked his lips, swallowed, his throat coarse and dry. ‘I wish I wasn’t doing this, but I have reason to believe that the corrupt officers working with The Crimsons are DS Elliot Bridger and DI Mark Murphy.’
CHAPTER 65
SAMMY
Three days had passed since the robbery, and it had been non-stop, conducting reports, interviews, processing information, submitting it, reviewing it, submitting it again. It had been relentless. But in that time Jake had heard nothing about the small investigation that was being led into Murphy’s and Bridger’s conduct. After raising his concerns with Pemberton, she had shot him down, denied the allegations on behalf of the accused and called him ridiculous for suggesting such a thing. She was, for some reason, either covering for them or, more likely Jake thought, under their control somehow. That wasn’t an environment he wanted to be in, and so he’d started ostracising himself from the rest of the team, distancing himself from the man he’d considered a potential father figure and even separated himself from Danika, who seemed to be growing closer and closer to Murphy, despite Jake’s protestations. It was a mess. So when the opportunity for a day off arose, Jake jumped at the chance and decided to use it to clear his head by travelling north to Newcastle and fulfilling a promise.
He pulled up to a desolate car park on the outskirts of Elena Miller’s estate, a few miles north of the city centre. Freddy’s old partner lived in block ten, floor five, flat twenty-two. Jake removed his warrant card from his glove compartment, exited the car and wandered to the building. On the other side of the car park, a group of kids played on their bikes, swerving around the broken bottles strewn across the concrete. One of them carried a basketball in his hand, and the sound of the ball bouncing up and down sporadically on the ground echoed around the grey concrete walls of the estate.
Jake stopped at a flight of steps, checked the small panel on the side of the wall that told him where each flat was, made sure he was in the right place and started up. The stairs stank of alcohol and sweat and decaying cigarettes. Puddles of liquid drenched the steps, and Jake struggled to avoid them.
His legs began to ache as he climbed to the fifth floor. He made a left turn and walked along the outside of the building, keeping tabs on the children playing and, more importantly, his car. He came to a stop outside number twenty-two. He could hear the sound of a television playing in the background. Jake lifted his hand and rapped his knuckles against the wooden door.
A few seconds later, it opened, and before him was a skinny, almost malnourished-looking brunette with thick black bags under her eyes. She wore a thin grey hoodie with disproportionate drawstrings dangling by her collarbones, and a pair of jeans ripped at the knee. In her hand she held a light blue plate carrying a sandwich. Her expression was blank, clearly unimpressed to see the stranger. Jake tried not to take it personally; he suspected she would have been unimpressed to see anyone.
‘Can I help you?’
Jake kept his ID in his pocket. ‘Elena?’
‘Why?’
‘It’s about Freddy.’
‘Don’t want to hear it.’ She threw the door shut, but Jake caught it with his fingers before it closed completely, then pushed
with all his might, forcing it open a little. He planted his foot between the door and the door frame for extra support.
‘Please. I’m a friend of his.’ The words felt strange to say.
‘The last thing that man has is friends. Who are you?’ She hid behind the small sliver in the door.
‘My name’s Jake Tanner. Would I be able to come in please?’
‘No,’ she said, scowling at him.
Behind her, from within the house, a call came. ‘Who is it, Mummy?’
‘Oh, it’s – it’s no one, Sammy. Just a man who wants to have a chat about adult stuff. Go back to the television.’ Elena remained still. She continued to glare through the gap, and he could feel her eyes assessing him, judging him. Eventually, she sighed, stepped aside and allowed him to enter. ‘You’ve got five minutes.’
Jake crossed the threshold and waited in the hallway. Elena closed the front door behind him and pointed to the kitchen.
‘In here. I don’t want you near my son.’
Jake held his hands in the air. ‘It’s your house.’
The kitchen was cramped. There was a small table laden with notebooks and textbooks in the far right, barely large enough for two people. Beside it, a fridge that came to the same height as the table. Next to that, an oven, washing machine and a sink. Elena stopped by an overhead cupboard and pulled out a glass.
‘What do you do?’ Jake asked, leafing through another textbook that was on the surface beside him.
Switching the kettle on, she said, ‘I’m studying to be a nurse.’
‘That’s wonderful,’ Jake said.
‘But it’s a bit difficult with him lying around the house.’ Elena nodded towards her son in the other room.
‘I commend you for it. I have a lot of respect for people in that role…’
‘You have kids?’ Elena asked, leaning against the kitchen countertop with her arms folded. He sensed she was beginning to warm to him, becoming less hostile to his presence.
‘Just the one for now, though I think we might try for another soon. Let’s say I won’t be disappointed if we get pregnant again. We were told we couldn’t have one in the first place.’
‘There’s a reason they call it the miracle of birth.’
Jake looked to the ground, bit his lip and decided to move the conversation along. He was conscious of the time. ‘He wants to see you… and his son, Elena.’
‘You can call me Ellie.’
‘Right,’ Jake said.
‘What do you mean, he wants to see us?’ she asked, shifting her weight onto the other foot.
‘Freddy. He wants to see you. He wants to see his son.’
‘Is that what this is about? He sent one of his mates to come and do his dirty work for him? I’ve been receiving his letters, and they’ve been going straight in the bin. That man stopped being a father to Sammy the day I found out what he was.’ Elena stepped away from Jake, ignoring the kettle that had just finished its boil.
‘It’s not like that,’ Jake said, trying to ease the tension between them. ‘It’s not like that at all. I promised him I would come here. I also promised him that you would bring Sammy to see him.’
‘Who are you?’ she asked.
Jake slowly reached into his front pocket and removed his ID.
‘Why’s he getting a copper to do his grovelling for him? He paying you? You bent? Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen one of them round here.’
Jake pocketed the ID and held his hands back in the air so Elena could see them. ‘It’s not like that. At all. It’s a long story, but—’
‘You’ve got a few minutes left to explain yourself.’
Jake swallowed before telling her everything. He was honest with her. Explained that Freddy had helped him solve the case. That Freddy had proven to Jake he was sorry and was beginning to change – that he was capable of it. That Freddy had lost all of his ‘sons’.
‘He was like a father to them. They never had their father growing up, so he stepped into the role.’
‘And look how they turned out,’ she snapped.
‘My dad died when I was fifteen, which was worse because we knew him and then he was taken from us. I was the middle child, but I was forced into adopting that role. I looked after my younger brother and I cared for my older sister, who didn’t even need me there. But I was, because I loved them. I’m telling you, I didn’t know what I was doing. I made mistakes. We all did. I still do. And I can tell you now, we would have been much better off if we’d had our dad in our lives. He would have kept us on the right path, told us when to turn left and to turn right. Not that my mum didn’t do a great job – she did.’ Jake paused to gauge Elena’s reaction; she was attentive, her eyes focused. ‘Freddy’s not asking for much. He just wants to see him. Maybe even speak with him for a bit. You don’t have to tell Sammy that Freddy’s his father. Freddy doesn’t mind that – he realises he gave up that privilege a long time ago, like you said. Just so long as he’s in his life, so long as Sammy knows Freddy exists. I mean, have you prepared for when Sammy begins to get curious? When he wants to find out who his dad is?’
Elena remained silent.
Jake continued without giving her time to answer or think. ‘Wouldn’t you want to know? I mean, if I could do anything to get my dad back, I would. One hundred per cent.’ Jake reached for his wallet, removed a business card that had his work mobile and email address on it, and placed it on the surface. He grabbed a pen from the spine of the textbook beside him and, on the reverse of the card, wrote down the visiting days and hours at HMP Winchester.
‘I know it’s a long way,’ Jake said, ‘but if you need me to, I’ll be happy to front some of the expense. I can’t force you to go, but I hope you’ll do what’s right for Sammy, because, after all, he’s the one that matters in all of this. I’ll show myself out. Thank you for your time.’
Jake slid the card closer to Elena, adjusted his wallet in his jeans, then wandered out of the kitchen and out of the flat, closing the door behind him.
CHAPTER 66
BEAUTIFUL BASTARD
The buzzer sounded overhead, and the door clicked open. The prison officer beside Freddy escorted him through the frame and onto his seat. He hadn’t been expecting visitors. In fact, he hadn’t even known about the visitor – whoever it was – until ten minutes ago. It was out of usual visiting hours but the prison staff had made an exception for him. His assumption was that it would be Jake again, coming back to get help with something.
In the years that he’d been locked inside he had only ever seen a handful of visitors. Mostly solicitors coming to bring him bad news, or the sporadic visit from a deranged member of the family who’d found out he was incarcerated and wanted to put it on their blog or social-media channels. Every time though, whether they were there to exploit him or depress him, he agreed to see them. Prison was a lonely place, and what sort of psychopath would he be to turn down external company?
The visiting room was empty, save for the guards standing to attention in the four corners. Freddy sat there, tapping his knee on the bottom of the table, drumming his fingers on the top. His gaze lumbered to the clock that hung on the wall to his right. It was nearly lunchtime, and he was beginning to get hungry.
A few minutes passed.
‘Is this a joke or something?’ Freddy asked, facing one of his favourite guards. ‘Because I know how you like to think you’re funny, Gabe. But—’
Freddy was interrupted by the door in front of him opening. Two people entered. At first he didn’t recognise who they were. And then, as the light reflected off their faces, his heart stopped. Elena and Sammy were right there, strolling towards him. Freddy’s eyes were glued to his son. Sammy was growing up to be tall and strong. His hair was well kept, and he looked healthy. Elena had been doing a good job, as he’d known she would.
Freddy felt a sense of raw elation and euphoria crash over him. A lump swelled in his throat and his eyes began to water.
Jake, you beautiful bastard.
Elena and Sammy pulled the chairs from beneath the table and sat opposite them.
‘You all right, Fred?’
CHAPTER 67
THE CABAL
Bridger slumped into the front seat of his car and slammed the door shut. He exhaled deeply and ran his hands over the steering wheel, bringing himself to make the call. It had been put off for too long now, and the longer he left it, the worse it was going to get.
The ringer sounded in his ear, sending bolts of panic through his brain and into the rest of his body with every tone. He clapped his knees together as he waited.
The call was answered but he was greeted by silence.
‘Hello?’ he said, licking his lips. ‘It’s me.’
There was a pause.
‘You’ve got some explaining to do,’ the voice on the other line said. Bridger didn’t know his name. He’d never been given one. He didn’t even know what he looked like. All he knew was that the nickname the man had given himself was The Cabal. And in the line of work that he was involved in, it seemed apt to Bridger.
‘Do I still get my cut?’ Bridger lowered himself in the leather seat.
‘Depends whether you can convince me you’ve earned it.’
‘Listen,’ Bridger began, suppressing the fear in his voice. ‘It’s not my fault.’
‘You were supposed to get them out of the country. That was your one job. They’re either dead or in a cell. That’s your problem. Your fault. Not mine. No one else’s.’
‘There were issues. Delays,’ Bridger said. ‘This new bloke. Tanner. He got in the way every time.’
‘He a threat?’
‘Nah.’ Bridger shook his head and stared out of the window. He glanced up at the police station just as Jake and Danika exited the building, heading off home for the evening. They waved goodbye to one another and headed towards their respective cars. ‘Trust me, he won’t be an issue.’
